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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28994499">A First Time For Everything</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/imgoingtocrash/pseuds/imgoingtocrash'>imgoingtocrash</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvysass/pseuds/savvysass'>savvysass</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>made of iron, born of fire [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>9/11 (very briefly mentioned), Angst, Baby Fic, Baby Peter, BioDad!AU, Emetophobia (mentioned), F/M, Fluff, Gen, Irondad, Mary Fitzpatrick/Tony Stark (mentioned/background), Medically Accurate Descriptions, Minor Character Death (Mentioned), NICU, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Pre-Iron Man 1, Pre-Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, Pre-Villain Arc Obie, The Parker Fam Is Part Of The IronFam, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump, ironfam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:27:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,766</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28994499</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/imgoingtocrash/pseuds/imgoingtocrash, https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvysass/pseuds/savvysass</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>“Mister Stark, I know all of this has been a lot for you,” Kathy admits. “But I’d like to think you’ve known me long enough now that you can trust me when I tell you that you’re gonna make it through this. You and your whole family.”</p>
  <p>Tony’s family. What an idea. All of these mismatched little pieces forming around him—around Peter. Supporting them just because they care.</p>
</blockquote><p>In the wake of a tragic loss comes an indescribable joy: Peter Benjamin Stark. The Stark and Parker clans come together as a family to support both their newest addition and Tony through their first few months together in the NICU.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Parker &amp; May Parker (Spider-Man) &amp; Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark, Ben Parker/May Parker (Spider-Man), Happy Hogan &amp; Ben Parker (Spider-Man), Happy Hogan &amp; Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) &amp; Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark, Obadiah Stane &amp; Tony Stark, Pepper Potts &amp; Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>made of iron, born of fire [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696297</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A First Time For Everything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>savvysass</b> - IT IS FINISHED! God I started this last April literally days after <i>A Foreign Feeling</i>. LOOK HOW FAR WE’VE COME! I PROMISED BABY GOODNESS AND WE DELIVERED! Look at this beast. This monster hulkin NICU fic. I didn’t realize I could write so many things happening in the NICU. I hope this is as accurate as possible! I used a lot of first hand sources from NICU nurses! Thanks Kathy! Also thanks as always to the wonderful astound fantabulous absolutely magnificent Imgoingtocrash, for without her this would not exist like even a little. It took a lot of support from her to even get me started writing, let alone all of her brilliant lines that are in this fic! It’s also her birthday soon cough cough, so give her a shout out! I’m not really sure how I’m going to continue the whole babiness, if I want to write more of infant Peter… I probably will. I just need ideas to make it flow… so hit me up on tumblr! Love ya’ll and prepare for Iron Man 1 fic that is coming along soon as well! &lt;3</p>
<p><b>imgoingtocrash</b> - This babyfic has been Savannah's baby ever since we finished <i>A Foreign Feeling</i> and I am so, so happy to have helped us finally get it to the finish line. She's worked through the worst of writers block and I'm so glad we kept picking at it instead of letting it drop!</p>
<p>As always, this is part of a series. For those of you that asked for more Baby Peter-centric fic, this is for you! It takes place shortly after <i>A Foreign Feeling</i>, and directly mentions and builds off of the events of Peter's birth. If you haven't read the rest of the series, we'd love if you did, but feel free to read it without catching up if you want, I guess!</p>
<p>And finally...*drumroll*...this story marks <b>100,000</b> words written in the <i>made of iron, born of fire</i> series!!! It has been so much fun to bring you all on this journey with us so far, and there's still more to come (because we're insane). Congrats to 100k, here's to...100,000 more...? Oh, god. Back to writing, folks!</p>
<p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <b>August 31, 2001</b>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">“Hey, Petey Pie,” Tony sings as Peter opens his wide eyes for the first time that day. “Happy three weeks, bud. You are officially older than my longest relationship. Not that impressive on my part, but the milestone is there.”</p>
<p class="p2">Peter’s eyes stare up at him, mesmerized, and god, Tony loves him. He could stare at those eyes until hell froze over and be perfectly content. </p>
<p class="p2">Peter loves to look at everything around him. He’s gotten old enough to be genuinely aware of his surroundings, and even though his eyes are still that baby blue that all infants have, Tony can’t help but think they look like his own in how they roam around, taking in every detail of the room.</p>
<p class="p2">“Why don’t we get you a more interesting view, huh? These ceiling tiles can’t be all that great,” Tony coos, and he really has become some soft-spoken sap for this kid in no time flat, hasn’t he? He didn’t know this tone even existed in his voice, but Peter drags it out of something deep in his subconscious—a soft side of him that reminds him of his mother.</p>
<p class="p2">He wonders if she’d be proud of him.</p>
<p class="p2">He shakes the thought from his head as he leans down and cradles Peter to his chest, the baby now on a nasal cannula that is much easier to work around. Tony can see his pink little cupid’s bow now that the tube is removed, and he traces his finger across his bottom lip every once in a while just to marvel at how his son’s tiny tongue darts out to meet it.</p>
<p class="p2">“Today is a big day, squirt,” he narrates as he leans back in the chair and rocks Peter back and forth. “We’re finally taking off this stupid nasal cannula. No more oxygen, just nice, sterile, NICU air. You’ll do great.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony tries not to be nervous, tries not to think about how his child was silent in the delivery room. His lungs didn’t have enough surfactant when he was born, the medicine they gave to Mary not in Peter’s system long enough to really help. The unofficial term was plastic lungs according to his slightly obsessive internet research, and isn’t that just the most terrifying thing he’s ever heard?</p>
<p class="p2">It’s been three weeks now though, and Peter’s been doing well. Doctor Patel thinks that Peter is ready to be taken off of the oxygen, and he is hopeful it will be an easy transition. Tony tries to convince himself to be that optimistic.</p>
<p class="p2">He doesn't know how long he's been sitting with Peter. Time seems to flow differently in the NICU, either because his focus is entirely on his son, or because the rest of the world doesn't seem as important in comparison to Peter in general.</p>
<p class="p2">It must be close to lunch time, at least, because Happy pokes his head in, scoping the room like the other babies will suddenly jump up wielding machine guns.</p>
<p class="p2">"You all good, Boss?" Happy asks of him, one foot out of the door and onto the next person he can badger about ID clearance and whatnot, probably.</p>
<p class="p2">"Could be better," Tony answers honestly, shrugging when Happy's brow scrunches in concern. "He's getting off of the cannula today."</p>
<p class="p2">Happy gives a gruff, concerned look. "He healthy enough for that?"</p>
<p class="p2">Happy steps closer, frowning down at Peter, wrapped up and cradled into as much of the skin peeking out of Tony's v-neck as he can in an impromptu skin-to-skin session.</p>
<p class="p2">"Still seems kinda wimpy to me."</p>
<p class="p2">Tony scoffs, bobbing Peter up and down. "Uncle Happy's so mean, Pete. Did you hear that? Three weeks old and this is how he treats you."</p>
<p class="p2">"Uncle—?" Happy says with surprise, then shakes his head. "Tony, c'mon, you don't have to—"</p>
<p class="p2">Tony rolls his eyes. "Oh, you knew it was coming. Don't make it weird or we'll have to start opening up about our feelings, and neither of us wants that."</p>
<p class="p2">Happy concedes to that at least, putting whatever argument he was going to give aside.</p>
<p class="p2">"Now," Tony proclaims, settling Peter securely in his arms as he stands. "I believe it's your turn."</p>
<p class="p2">"My turn to what?" Tony holds out the baby. Happy stares at Tony, then flicks his gaze down to Peter and quickly back to Tony again.</p>
<p class="p2">"No. No, absolutely not. I don't do kids."</p>
<p class="p2">"It's easy, Hap, you just cradle his head—"</p>
<p class="p2">"I'm not—don't you come at me like that—"</p>
<p class="p2">"Yep, and you hold his body like this, here, give me your arm, there we go."</p>
<p class="p2">"Tony—!"</p>
<p class="p2">Happy's protests deter nothing. He is now holding all 3 pounds and 12 ounces of Peter Stark in his arms.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony places his hands triumphantly on his hips. "See? Nothing to it."</p>
<p class="p2">Happy's returning gaze is a completely solid, flat glare. Only Happy Hogan could manage such a thing with an adorable baby in his arms.</p>
<p class="p2">“I didn’t consent to this,” is all Happy says, standing ramrod straight and frowning down at the baby in his arms. Peter looks up to him with wide-eyed wonder, and for a brief moment, a flicker of soft surrender to the inevitable crosses Happy’s gaze, but it is quickly shoved back down as Happy scoots closer to Tony.</p>
<p class="p2">“Alright, I held the damn kid. Now take him back.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony snorts and gently transfers the baby into his arms, settling back into the chair before smiling widely.</p>
<p class="p2">“As if I can’t tell he already has you wrapped around his finger. You’re a sap, Hogan.”</p>
<p class="p2">Happy rolls his eyes, but pauses before he stomps out of the room.</p>
<p class="p2">"You gotta stop worrying about the kid so much," Happy states, suddenly more serious. "I get that all of this is scary, but you're gonna go nuts if you lose it over every little thing. I can see your hair turning grey from here."</p>
<p class="p2">Tony scoffs with as much indignation as he can. "How dare you insinuate such a thing. Get out of here. Go. Grey hairs, honestly. How ridiculous."</p>
<p class="p2">Happy snorts. "Whatever you say, Boss."</p>
<p class="p2">At Happy's exit, Peter sighs in his arms, and Tony looks down to see the baby staring straight at him.</p>
<p class="p2">“Hey Petey,” Tony says softly, looking into those curious eyes as he slips his pinky into Peter’s grasp.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony frowns as his gaze quickly travels to the nasal cannula, worry working its way into his gut again.</p>
<p class="p2">He knows it has to happen at some point. Peter can't rely on the artificial oxygen forever. But it's also hard to let go of the unnatural quiet of the delivery room, the blue tinge of Peter's newborn cheeks.</p>
<p class="p2">For those first few days, Tony thought his new beginning was going to end him from the anxiety alone, not to mention all of the sudden stress. He wasn’t prepared.</p>
<p class="p2">Now, Tony sees a life with his son ahead of them. It’s not the picket fence he imagined when he looked at Mary all those months ago, but it’s theirs. Soft nights with Peter in his arms, rocking him back and forth to put him to sleep. Early morning trips to their private beach, Peter wrapped up in a blanket to keep the chill away as the sun rises above the ocean. Watching Peter as he slowly gets big enough to come into Tony’s lab, the new AI recording the whole thing. Peter’s first words, his first day of school, his first <em>everything</em>. Tony wants to be there for it all, and he’ll be damned if a stupid nasal cannula gets in the way of getting his baby home.</p>
<p class="p2">So, when Nurse Kathy comes in and removes it, Tony tries to smother his worries and simply admire the fact that he can now fully see Peter’s tiny button nose.</p>
<p class="p2">Peter takes to the new sensation well, but Tony fully removes his v-neck in the hopes of comforting Peter with something more familiar at the same time.</p>
<p class="p2">"Look at that, Pete. Bet that feels good, huh?” Tony coos. Nurse Kathy gives a soft sort of smile, probably long used to the way new parents quickly fall into talking to their children. “See Peter? It’s fine. Dad was just being a dumbass, as usual.”  </p>
<p class="p2">Peter looks up at him once again. If Tony read into things more, he might say the baby's quick reaction is to Tony's self-flagellation. Instead, Tony just takes in the way his thoughts have completely rearranged to thinking <em>holy shit he's so cute how is anything this cute </em>at least fifty percent of the day. He can't resist the motion his finger makes toward Peter's face, booping his tiny nose on a whim. </p>
<p class="p2">Peter scrunches up his face, and Tony’s heart stutters as he gasps in a way Tony's never heard before.</p>
<p class="p2">“Peter? Peter, buddy, what’s—" Tony starts, panic gripping at him as a single thought crosses his mind—<em>he can’t breathe</em>. He clutches Peter tighter and looks at Kathy and fear and then—</p>
<p class="p2">Peter lets out a loud sneeze.</p>
<p class="p2">It's the most noise he’s ever heard the baby make since he was born.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony stares at him dumbly for a beat. He locks eyes with Nurse Kathy for another. Then he barks out a laugh, relief coursing through him.</p>
<p class="p2">Okay, so maybe he’s still a little paranoid. Sue him.</p>
<p class="p2">But for the moment, his kid is fine. He’s on the right track according to the studies on premature babies Tony’s been doing while Peter sleeps, and Kathy reassures him of as much.</p>
<p class="p2">“He seems to be taking to the room air just fine, Tony. He’s a strong little man.” Kathy grabs at one of Peter's feet, bouncing it gently as if to accentuate her point. “And I see you’ve been doing well with the skin to skin contact.”</p>
<p class="p2">Kathy raises her eyebrows, looking Tony's shirtless form up and down. Tony's used to being ogled by women, but it feels a little...<em>dirtier</em>, when he's also holding his pure little boy in his arms at the same time.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony covers what may or may not be a blush running up his cheeks by handing Peter over for a diaper change. Tony throws his shirt back on and sighs his body into the chair behind him. Sleep pulls uncomfortably at his eyelids, but he's definitely run on less before. It's when the shakes start that you know you're really in trouble.</p>
<p class="p2">The quiet beeps of the nursery linger between Tony and the nurse for a moment, both of them watching as Peter's resistant movements still into just a couple of slow kicks into the air.</p>
<p class="p2">“He seems sleepy right now," Kathy remarks, looking at Tony pointedly. "Maybe you should take the chance to take a nap, too. Sleep when the baby sleeps, yanno?”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony rubs at his eyes as he leans further back in the chair. </p>
<p class="p2">"Doctor’s orders?” he jokes, as if he ever listened to such things before now. He's tempted to take her up on the idea, though. He feels the exhaustion of the last three weeks sink into his bones every time he considers doing anything that doesn't relate to Peter's immediate care.</p>
<p class="p2">“Better: nurse’s orders. It’s like doctor’s orders, but we stick around long enough to make sure you follow through with them," Kathy says with a wink.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony snorts. “Alright. Don't tell Pepper I let you order me around, though. She'll get jealous."</p>
<p class="p2">“She seems the type," Kathy replies with a smile, patting Tony on the shoulder before turning to the door. "G’night, sweetie.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony surrenders to the pull of sleep as soon as he moves over to the couch and lays his head against the pillow.</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">Tony is awoken by a shuffling sound near Peter’s warmer. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, frowning as he sees the focused look on the nurse’s face as she looks over his son.</p>
<p class="p2">“Is he okay?” he asks, suddenly alert because it isn’t normal for Kathy to be hovering over his kid this long during an hourly check, is it?</p>
<p class="p2">“Mmm," is her distracted non-answer before she finishes examining something and turns to Tony. "We're keeping a close eye on him right now. It seems like he’s struggling a little.” </p>
<p class="p2">She purses her lips. “The on-call doctor is coming to check on him in a minute."</p>
<p class="p2">Tony bolts upright, willing his legs to cooperate as he stretches them out and lifts from the couch. He stands to the opposite side of Peter's warmer, looking in through the clear material and finding something that drains the warmth of sleep from his body in seconds.</p>
<p class="p2">Peter’s chest is rising and falling in rapid, shallow beats, his body listless and moving slowly.</p>
<p class="p2"><em>No</em>. Nonono, not after everything they've already been through, not after Tony finally feels a connection with his child, not losing his only family <em>again</em>, please no.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony sticks his hand inside, gasping at the chill of Peter's skin. Even in the warmer, he is cool to the touch, and panic rushes through his veins at the slightly blue tint of his lips. Worst of all though, is the vacant look in his eyes, staring into space without an ounce of their usual curiosity.</p>
<p class="p2">“It's only been a few hours! What the hell <em>happened</em>?!” Tony shouts, because being angry and indignant and brash has gotten him what he wanted before and because Peter was fine when he went to bed, he was fine, god, how did they miss this, something’s<em> wrong </em>and he's just standing here doing <em>nothing</em>.</p>
<p class="p2">"Mister Stark, you need to calm down," Kathy instructs in a way that makes it an order rather than a suggestion. "There are other patients in this nursery, and you are not going to disturb them or the doctor or you are not going to <em>be</em> in this nursery, do you understand me?"</p>
<p class="p2">Tony swallows—his fear, his anger, a little bit of bile—and nods his head. Anything but that.</p>
<p class="p2">A new doctor with a tight bun and a white coat walks into the tense space with a squeak of her sneakers, eyeing both Kathy and Tony before they snap out of their staring contest and let the doctor through.</p>
<p class="p2">“Pleasure to meet you, Mister Stark,” the woman says, giving the pleasantry but mostly focusing on her patient in the warmer. "Let's see what's going on with Peter here, okay?"</p>
<p class="p2">Tony nods, absently, feeling like he’s in that room again, Peter silent in the doctor’s arms, Mary bleeding in the bed, and he's useless, pushed around wherever they ask him to go because he doesn't have control of any of it.</p>
<p class="p2">He doesn’t notice the tear in his eye until it slips down his cheek. Kathy puts a hand on his back, guiding him to sit back down. With his cooperation, she's gained her warm aura back.</p>
<p class="p2">“Let her look him over, Tony," she advises. "He’s still breathing.”</p>
<p class="p2"><em>But for how long? </em>His mind supplies, and he curses himself for ever letting his guard down.</p>
<p class="p2">He was right to worry, right to be nervous! People go on and on about parental instincts, and maybe the instistant, all-encompassing terror that everything would suddenly go wrong was his telling him this was too early, that Peter wasn’t ready, and he ignored it!</p>
<p class="p2">“Jesus.” He drops his head into his hands. "I'm sorry that I—I didn't mean to—he's just, he's my kid and I—"</p>
<p class="p2">"I know," Kathy sighs heavily, like she really, really does. “You just gotta breathe, darlin’. Doctor Cone is working on it."</p>
<p class="p2">Tony watches as the now-named Doctor Cone checks over his son with a critical eye. She's slow and methodical, not letting Peter's condition rush her process as she takes his temperature and writes it down. Then she moves on to using her stethoscope with the same precision, gently pushing it over Peter's chest and listening for a few beats before pulling away and making another note.</p>
<p class="p2">Finally, she stands fully, looking Tony in the eye and giving a nod.</p>
<p class="p2">"Well, Mister Stark, I think what we're looking at is a bit of a chest infection. It happens sometimes when preemies are still switching to normal room air. I’d like to put him back on the CPAP until it clears up and give him some antibiotics to treat the pneumonia. That should set him straight and get him back to where we started."</p>
<p class="p2">Pneumonia. His kid has <em>pneumonia</em>.</p>
<p class="p2">People—fully grown adults—can die from pneumonia. Peter's underdeveloped and unprotected and it's all up to drugs and an oxygen pump to save him, now.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony feels like he could vomit.</p>
<p class="p2">"Yeah, you should—yeah. Do it. Now. Go, I gotta—I gotta make a call while you...yeah."</p>
<p class="p2">He's not brave enough to watch them put the CPAP back on. He's not brave enough to handle this back and forth, this tumbling wave of emotions that won't even let him sleep for a few hours without throwing him off balance all over again.</p>
<p class="p2">But he knows someone that is.</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">Tony leaves the room, but doesn’t have the strength to go too far from the NICU. He ends up tucked next to a vending machine down the hall, thumping at a coffee dispenser because it ate his dollar.</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper arrives with harried steps, catching his hunched form all the way from the nurse’s station and making a beeline over.</p>
<p class="p2">“What happened?” she questions when she’s finally close enough to be heard without making too much noise and disturbing the other patients. “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p class="p2">It’s the first time in god-knows-how-long that Tony’s seen Pepper wearing anything that isn’t a pantsuit or dress skirt. Without her heels, she’s just an inch shorter, causing him to look down at her instead of up.</p>
<p class="p2">He knew she was sleeping when he called, but he didn’t expect that she would literally throw on shoes with her adorable little flannel pajama pants and t-shirt ensemble and get here in under thirty minutes flat.</p>
<p class="p2">“And all this time I was bitching about New York traffic,” he quips tiredly, meeting her worried look with as much of a smile as he can muster.</p>
<p class="p2">“What?” Pepper gives him one of her patented looks—he’s crazy, he’s an idiot, she’s going to strangle him—somehow he can always tell which is which under the umbrella of “annoyed with Tony”. This is leaning more towards trying to determine if he’s just being eccentric or if he’s genuinely had some kind of mental break.</p>
<p class="p2">She shakes her head. “Peter, what happened—is he okay? Is he in surgery, is he—?”</p>
<p class="p2">Oh. He didn’t exactly explain what was going on, did he? Just that he didn’t want to wake the Parkers and Rhodey was gone, so Tony told her he needed her at the hospital ASAP.</p>
<p class="p2">“He’s in the warmer, still. They had to put him back on the oxygen because he wasn’t breathing well, and—and the on-call doctor said it was pneumonia, so I kinda freaked out, got on Nurse Kathy’s bad side, made a bit of a scene…”</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper takes that information in. She lets the tension out of her shoulders at the news that Peter is okay, then picks it right back up in the frustrated furrow of her brow. “You called me. At 3 AM. Because the baby has the <em>flu</em>?!”</p>
<p class="p2">“Now, see, it was terrifying at the time—”</p>
<p class="p2">“He’s in the NICU, Tony! Babies get sick! That doesn’t mean he’s—I thought this was an <em>emergency</em>!”</p>
<p class="p2">“But he’s already so little, what if he—”</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper holds up her hand, expression firm. “Is the doctor concerned about it?”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony leans his head against the side of the vending machine, avoiding Pepper’s stare. </p>
<p class="p2">“Well, not exactly…”</p>
<p class="p2">“Then what did they say? <em>Exactly</em>?”</p>
<p class="p2">“She said it happens sometimes when preemies are adjusting to unfiltered air. She said with the CPAP, he should recover and be back to where we started soon.”</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper sighs. That one he knows is asking the great spirit in the sky to give her the strength to deal with him.</p>
<p class="p2">“I can’t believe I left the apartment without a bra on for this…” she grumbles as she digs around in her purse, then glares when Tony’s eyes immediately track a little too curiously past her face. She obscures his inappropriate thoughts with a set of keys.</p>
<p class="p2">“Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to order food. Happy is going to drive you to the apartment to pick it up and eat it. Then you’re going to sleep. I don’t care if I have to have Happy stuff Nyquil down your throat to make it happen. I want eight hours, minimum.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Pepper—” Tony tries to interrupt. If he leaves, if he relaxes even for a second...look what happens. His baby is sick because he didn’t listen to his instincts.</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper doesn’t accept the interruption, dragging Tony along to the NICU warmers by the arm and continuing her speal.</p>
<p class="p2">“While you walk further away from the dangerous edge that is parental panic over-fueled by sleep deprivation, I’m going to answer my emails while occasionally looking up at that cute little baby in there, and if and only <em>if</em> something more interesting than a diaper change happens, will I wake you. Are we clear, Mister Stark?”</p>
<p class="p2">Because of her title as Tony’s personal assistant, most people assume that Pepper is trotting along at Tony’s heels, when the reality is that she’s a natural at taking charge and removing all of the paperwork and kruft that keeps Tony from doing what he does best: fixing things.</p>
<p class="p2">There’s a limit to how much he can fix this. Peter has the best doctors in New York on his side as it is, and all of the love in the world from Tony can’t make his lungs any stronger. That will take time. Time that Tony, admittedly, doesn’t need to spend this particular night driving himself crazy on an only-kind-of-comfortable couch. Especially when Pepper is willing to stay in his stead.</p>
<p class="p2">If there’s anyone that Tony knows he can trust Peter’s short life with, it’s probably Pepper. Even if she doesn’t look particularly put together right now, he knows that she’s always got her head on a lot straighter than he does, and when it comes to what to worry about and what not to worry about...well, maybe Tony can admit his parental instincts are a little out of whack and a lot more under-practiced than he’d like to believe.</p>
<p class="p2">“Six hours?” Tony proposes back, unsure if he’s gotten a solid eight hours of sleep in months without hitting the bottle first. He definitely doesn’t want to go down that road right now.</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper’s mouth ticks up enough to call her amused, but likely more at the fact that she knows she’s won rather than with his attempt to have the last word about it all. </p>
<p class="p2">“Six and a half.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Can I at least say goodbye?” Tony requests, already inching towards Peter’s warmer.</p>
<p class="p2">“Of course,” Pepper allows, softening her posture and deciding to join him as well.</p>
<p class="p2">Peter’s asleep at the moment, but certainly looking better than he did without the CPAP.</p>
<p class="p2">“You’re allowed to worry about him, Tony,” Pepper says, leaning her shoulder into his just enough for their arms to touch. “You probably always will. But hovering like this...it’s not sustainable. Not for when we finally leave the hospital, and not when he grows up.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Don’t say ‘grow up’ around him.” Tony touches Peter’s hand through the warmer, softly stroking Peter’s baby-soft skin. “He gets to reach a healthy weight and then he’s going to stay my protectable little baby forever.”</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper snorts, smiling like he’d hoped she would. “That’s unrealistic.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I have to be without him for a whole six and a half hours, Potts. Let me have this one thing to dream about.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Yeah, yeah.” Pepper pats his arm as if she means to console him, then turns to make her calls—finding somewhere willing to deliver this late and probably pulling Happy out of sleep as well.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony sighs, pushing up the warmer and leaning down over Peter’s head. </p>
<p class="p2">“Okay, kiddo. Looks like we’re going to have to spend a little time apart. It’s okay if you have a little separation anxiety. I’m pretty awesome, I know.”</p>
<p class="p2">The joke does nothing to hide what Tony’s feeling, since he’s the one that made it. Being without Peter is a new sensation, and he’s sure it won’t be easy to handle. But Pepper is also right—even if it’s only for an hour or two, he and Peter won’t always get to be together. Might as well at least pretend to get some sleep on his nice silk sheets, even if he’s being pushed into it against his will.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s soft tuft of newborn hair before closing the warmer. “I love you, Pete. I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.”</p>
<p class="p2">It’s a promise that he’ll return and a promise to himself—Peter will be okay if Tony takes a break every once in a while. Peter will still be there tomorrow, and for every day of Tony’s life after that.</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <b>September 14, 2001</b>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">“I’m fine, Pep.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Tell that to the bags under your eyes.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Seriously, I—”</p>
<p class="p2">“This is not up for debate!”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony sighs. Two week after his late night trip to the apartment, Pepper is once again on his case about leaving the NICU. </p>
<p class="p2">“Get some time away from it all,” she says.</p>
<p class="p2">“You need to bathe and sleep on an honest-to-god mattress, Tony,” she says.</p>
<p class="p2">It’s a bunch of bullshit if you ask him.</p>
<p class="p2">All he needs is this beautiful little boy and his big doe eyes staring back at him over his nasal cannula.</p>
<p class="p2">They took him off the CPAP again yesterday, and he seems to be doing well back on the lower oxygen, but it still made his chest hurt the entire day he was transitioning. Just like Doctor Cone said, the antibiotics worked wonders, and Peter has been finishing off the last of the doses over the last few days.</p>
<p class="p2">They expect him to be back to room air in a week.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony doesn’t know if he can handle it.</p>
<p class="p2">Apparently the stress has been showing on his face, and now Pepper is sending him on a grand vacation to the apartment once again.</p>
<p class="p2">He wants to be mad about it, but honestly, an actual bed does sound nice. He won’t give into her that easily though. That would take all the fun out of it, and he needs as much as he can get, these days.</p>
<p class="p2">“Tony, you are the only one in this NICU who stays at their baby’s side without leaving. Don’t you notice how other people do shifts? How they go home at night? What you’re doing isn’t normal.”</p>
<p class="p2">He almost pipes up with the point that he’s rarely even been normal, but Pepper continues before he can.</p>
<p class="p2">“Peter is going to be here for a while, and you can’t live like this. You need to take a break. I want you to go get some lunch, go take a nap, fix up the apartment, whatever it takes to get away from this place for a while. You need a full night’s rest before coming back here tomorrow—”</p>
<p class="p2">“Tomorrow?! You want me to abandon my baby for a whole 24 hours?!” Tony all but screeches, wincing when the nurse glares at him and Peter shifts in his sleep.</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper sighs, massaging her temples between her fingers. She looks about as spent as he does, and he wonders what all she has had to do to keep Stark Industries afloat while he’s been absent.</p>
<p class="p2">“Yes, Tony. <em>Tomorrow</em>. You need to spend a day not in this hospital room. Consider this an intervention.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony scoffs. “An intervention for what?! Being with my baby? For being a decent father?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Don’t try and guilt trip me out of this.” Pepper frowns with a pointed finger at his chest.</p>
<p class="p2">“It’s an intervention for hovering over this warmer like you’re haunting the kid! You need to <em>rest</em>, Tony!” Pepper says in a hushed whisper, trying not to wake Peter. He still stirs a little though, so she takes a breath before continuing a little quieter. “You have a whole team of people supporting you, so let us <em>help</em>. I’m not asking.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You know that’s not how this is supposed to work, right? I pay you, you do what I say? Boss.” Tony points to himself. “Employee.” He points to Pepper.</p>
<p class="p2">“I do whatever is necessary to keep you in peak working condition, Mister Stark.” Pepper smiles her formal, good-little-assistant smile, and he hears the underlying, <em>so suck it up, Stark.</em></p>
<p class="p2">Tony blows out a breath, knowing he’s lost the argument.</p>
<p class="p2">“Yeah, yeah. Okay. I’ll go get a coffee, check out what you’ve set up, and then I’ll rest. But I’ll be back here first thing tomorrow morning. And I will be texting to see how he’s doing every hour, so don’t turn off your phone, Potts.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Tony —”</p>
<p class="p2">“Ahp ahp ahp, not up for debate! I want full reports on every diaper change, every flip, every cuddle! And if I get a picture of you two doing skin to skin, I won’t complain.” He gives a suggestive lift of his brow. </p>
<p class="p2">With anyone else, it would be overt sexual harassment, but Pepper simply rolls her eyes, grumbling, “You wish.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony snorts, lingering for a moment after quietly kissing Peter’s hand.</p>
<p class="p2">He sighs as he exits, slipping on a baseball cap and walking down the street to the nearest coffee cart. He orders the most caffeinated espresso they have, keeping his head down as he walks through the streets of Queens to the penthouse apartment. It’s nice weather out, and he hasn’t seen sunlight except through the hospital windows in weeks.</p>
<p class="p2">Of course, he must have pissed some karma god off, because a gaggle of reporters catches him a block from the apartment, biting at his heels as he mutters a quick “No comment!” and slips in through the back door.</p>
<p class="p2">“Damn vultures,” he mutters as he takes the elevator up to the penthouse, glad he had a top of the line security system installed in the building before Peter was born. He can chill here until tomorrow, and then he can call Happy to get him back to the hospital in case any stragglers from the group looking for a new segment on the Stark baby catch him.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony figures he should say something to them at some point. He’s sure Pepper’s put out some kind of statement, but they’ve never been satisfied with some PR line when they could just beat down his door instead.</p>
<p class="p2">He makes a note to ask Pepper what exactly she <em>did</em> feed to the gossip magazines as he steps into the foyer, dropping his keys and freezing when he enters the living room.</p>
<p class="p2">It’s different from the last time he saw it—he was tired and bleary two week ago when he’d been forced to come here. He kept the lights off while he slept and then walked in and out without really actually <em>seeing</em> anything when he returned to his hospital vigil.</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper and Rhodey have done a decent job with the painting, but he can tell his interior decorator had a hand as well, considering the modern art and furniture that he definitely didn’t pick out himself.</p>
<p class="p2">Still, despite it being furnished, despite the signs of Pepper’s occupancy here and there—an abandoned suit jacket on the back of the couch, an organized little row of her shoes by the door, what may or may not be a Chinese food stain already on the rug—it feels...cold.</p>
<p class="p2">Whenever he went to Mary’s, it felt warm. Lived in. Ready for Peter in a way that Tony found himself missing before Peter was actually in the world. Even with Richard Parker’s things piled up in the corners...it was filled with life. Messy, uncontrolled, teeming <em>life,</em> more than ready to accept its new addition.</p>
<p class="p2">He feels the lack of Mary’s touch everywhere he looks, while also haunting him with everything she did pick out.</p>
<p class="p2">This was supposed to be his home away from home, yes, but it was still supposed to be a <em>home</em>. The idea of bringing Peter back here leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, fueled by foggy memories of the old Stark Mansion in Los Angeles—primped and put together just so, <em>no Anthony, you mustn’t sit </em>there<em>, it’s not a couch for</em> sitting. (As if that made any sense.)</p>
<p class="p2">He takes a look around at the apartment, purses his lips, and lets out a sigh.</p>
<p class="p2"><em>Yep, this place is a bust. </em>He can’t imagine spending the next eighteen or more years of Peter’s life in this place, even if only to visit the Parkers after they finally move back to Malibu.</p>
<p class="p2">No, the day Peter is released, they will hop on a private jet right back to California.</p>
<p class="p2">God, Pepper is going to strangle him.</p>
<p class="p2">At least Obie will be happy he’s spending less time away from the main office.</p>
<p class="p2">Speaking of Obie, Tony’s phone rings, the familiar contact photo of Obie from last year’s Christmas party pulling up on the screen. He sighs, bracing himself.</p>
<p class="p2">“You’ve reached Tony Stark’s personal voicemail, please leave a message at the tone, BEEP.”</p>
<p class="p2">Obie sighs. “Nice try, kid. Seriously, how the hell are you?”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony finds himself sighing right back. “Could be better. Pepper’s barred me from the hospital. She says it’s because I’m obsessing, I think she just wants me to take a shower.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Smart girl,” Obie hums. “Listen, I’m glad you’re getting away from it. I hear parenthood is stressful. And most importantly, it means I can get your attention for more than one five minute phone call at a time.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Obie, it’s just for a night. One day. That’s all I agreed to.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I get that you’ve got a lot going on, but the press are restless. <em>E! News</em> did an entire segment about you getting a fucking cup of coffee today.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Wha—that was like ten minutes ago!”</p>
<p class="p2">“Look, I get that the new heir of Stark Industries is important, I do, but don’t forget that he needs a company to inherit in the first place, and keeping our deadlines at a standstill like this isn’t doing us any favors, especially considering what just happened to the Twin Towers. I mean, you saw that shit!”</p>
<p class="p2">“I’m aware,” Tony grumbles through his teeth. “That’s why Rhodey had to cut out early.”</p>
<p class="p2">“James has always understood how to put his responsibilities first, you know. Very admirable. Just saying.”</p>
<p class="p2">“And I’m <em>just saying</em> that I have a responsibility to my son too, Obie.” Tony rubs his eyes, trying to lessen the headache that’s suddenly taken over. “All this time you asked me to nut up or shut up. Why can’t you just support me in this?”</p>
<p class="p2">There’s a moment of silence on the other end, but Obie finally replies, “I do support you, Tony. I always have. When no one else trusted the dorky little wunderkid eighteen-year-old to run the entire company, I said, <em>no way, it’s his birthright, just give him a chance</em>, and look how far we’ve come! You’ve put a lot of work into Stark Industries, Tony. You shouldn’t lose sight of that either. In a way…it’s your baby too.”</p>
<p class="p2">And in a way, Obie’s right. Doesn’t make the company feel any more important than the actual, living bundle of perfection and joy and warm-gushy-feelings that’s sitting in the hospital just trying to live another day.</p>
<p class="p2">“Listen, just—send Pepper your proposals. Whatever you think is best. I’ll sign off on them as soon as possible. We’ll get the military some shiny new toys, I’ll keep my eye on my flesh and blood kid, and you’ll be in charge while I’m away, which I know just delights you so.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony can hear Obie’s satisfaction over the phone. “I can’t say it feels bad. But hey, you tell my nephew I said hi, okay? I’ll fight terror on the homefront, you sit back and enjoy being a dad for a while. Jesus, that’s still weird to say. I don’t know if I like it.”</p>
<p class="p2">“It’s growing on me,” Tony admits. “I’ll talk to you later.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Sure thing, kiddo. Have a good one. Try not to do anything else paparazzi-worthy today. For my health.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I’ll do my best.”</p>
<p class="p2">As always, ending a conversation with Obie leaves him a little torn. The man has more experience and business acumen than Tony ever will, but he lacks Tony’s creative vision and he knows it. Their back and forth to come to an agreement never truly feels like winning for either of them, he thinks.</p>
<p class="p2">Oh well. At least he’ll be able to duck the other man’s calls for a few more days in a row without getting too much heat over it.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony pulls himself up off of the couch, stretching his sore back muscles and shuffling over to the pile of takeout menus that Pepper has surreptitiously left on the kitchen counter. Even if he doesn’t plan to actually live in this place, he’s promised to stay for the night, and he’s definitely not going to venture into cooking while he does it.</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <b>September 22, 2001</b>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">Holding his son for the first time without a nest of wires in the way is a surreal sort of moment.</p>
<p class="p2">While other parents experienced that moment almost immediately, Tony had to wait. He’s had to grieve at the loss of that moment for both himself and Mary while trying to hold back a frothing press and keep Obie happy and doing all of <em>that</em> while keeping track of Peter’s current condition at the same time.</p>
<p class="p2">It’s a relief to know Peter can now breathe without any devices, despite the fear that another thing could go wrong—that he could backslide once again despite the fact he’s been on room air for 24 hours now and seems to be doing fine. He pushes the fear from his mind as he looks down at his son in his arms, Peter’s eyes staring up at him in curiosity.</p>
<p class="p2">It would be a much more <em>serene</em> moment, though, if the kid would just. Eat. Already.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony knew it wouldn’t be easy. He was told by multiple medical professionals—two nurses and Doctor Patel—that it would be harder for Peter than it is for other babies. </p>
<p class="p2">For one, there’s the fact that Tony is not Mary (which brings up a host of things he will <em>never</em> be that Mary <em>could have been</em> that he doesn’t want to think about, so he shuts it down past the part about ‘cannot produce milk for the baby’). The other issue is simply Peter’s premature birth, attributing to a less than stellar stomach. Peter’s body isn’t used to any kind of sustenance that isn’t coming through a tube, and by the state of their morning so far, it’s going to make his son unhappy and difficult to deal with for quite a while to come.</p>
<p class="p2">Just like a Stark, he supposes. </p>
<p class="p2">Except Peter is nothing like the long lineage of uptight jerkwads that has decorated most of his family’s lineage thus far. Tony always felt himself the exception to some degree—a healthy sense of narcissism will do that for you—but he knows that before Peter, something monumental would have needed to happen to snap him away from an empty, lonely future where he ran his loved ones off in a drunken haze.</p>
<p class="p2">(Yes, he’s had nightmares about that one, and yes, they were a little too reminiscent of <em>A Christmas Carol</em>.)</p>
<p class="p2">Peter, even as he rejects the rubber receptacle for the nth time with a fussy mewl, is incontestably adorable. It’s almost infuriating, the things this kid gets away with because of that sweet little face.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony groans, sitting up in the chair, trying to keep the appropriate feeding pose even though his arms are sore and his butt is getting the fuzzies of being asleep. This is the third attempt of the day, and it’s gotten them just as far as the last two. Peter’s clearly as stubborn as he is, at the very least.</p>
<p class="p2">“Peter, come <em>on</em>,” Tony half begs. “It’s not that hard. If I thought it would help, I’d shotgun the thing myself and show you how it’s done.”</p>
<p class="p2">Peter looks up at Tony, huffing a breath. As soon as they’d removed the nasal cannula yesterday, they’d started on a whole new list of things that Tony was to do to get his baby into...baby-ing shape. Enough to get him out of the hospital in a few months, which Tony is desperately aching to do.</p>
<p class="p2">Now that he knows the New York penthouse isn’t their forever home, he dreads returning to it at night, but if he doesn’t, Pepper starts to talk about making him a schedule and the idea of her planning out his life more than she already does gives him stress by proxy.</p>
<p class="p2">So he sleeps. He returns to the hospital. And now, his routine apparently forever and ever until Peter wisens up, is to hold his son with a bottle and try to psychically communicate to his child what is supposed to be happening here.</p>
<p class="p2">“Peeeeter,” Tony coos, the way that he does when no one else is around to poke fun at him. Not that it would stop him from doing it, per se, but it’s still not something he flaunts around for everyone else. </p>
<p class="p2">“Petey-Pie. Little Peter Cottontail. Kid, I don’t have that many nicknames yet, it’s only been a month. This is my best dad material right now.”</p>
<p class="p2">Peter still just kind of sits there, wiggling his appendages as much as he can in Tony’s swaddling hold.</p>
<p class="p2">“Okay, not good enough. Um...okay, how about a story? Once there was a baby named Peter and he ate like he was supposed to and didn’t stress his father out immensely, the end.”</p>
<p class="p2">Peter is still unimpressed.</p>
<p class="p2">“That was rough, I’ll admit. Had to try. I do have a lot of good stories, though. Real ones. Granted, most of them will have to stay in the vault until you’re at least sixteen, but hey, they’re full of life lessons and dos and don’ts and—”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony stops. There’s a noise. A suckling sort of noise.</p>
<p class="p2">He looks down to find Peter finally, blissfully, eating.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh thank god,” Tony breathes out, a little scared to move. Maybe if he just stays locked this way forever, Peter will finish the whole thing. It will be a banner day. Joy in the streets.</p>
<p class="p2">“Good job, Pete.” Tony attempts to encourage the baby without actually moving anything around to touch or soothe Peter. This seems like a very forehead-kissable moment, if he were to risk it.</p>
<p class="p2">“I can’t believe that worked. Finally, someone else in the world who likes to hear me talk too much! I kind of thought Rhodey was all I had, and even he has his limits. But you, kiddo, you’re just loving me already...or you’re trying to eat really fast so I’ll shut up. I really can’t tell. Still, I’m very proud. I might cry a little. It’s been a morning, and I was kind of worried we’d be at this all night.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony smiles down, his eyes matching Peter’s as he finally eats his nutrition like all of the other little babies in the world do. He thought Peter might be on those tubes forever, but he’s here, he’s breathing fresh air and using every breath to take in his milk and Tony feels like he can settle a little more into the hold, content to watch Peter finish his first ever bottle in peace.</p>
<p class="p2">A click disrupts the quiet of the NICU for a moment, causing Tony to look up. Ben is standing at the door, holding a Canon camera between his palms and gesturing with it in greeting. It’s certainly not brand new, but it’s definitely more than a disposable model from the Walgreens around the corner.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony doesn’t get a greeting out himself before the entire scene is disrupted by a shrill squeal, accompanied by the sound of coffee dribbling onto the tile hospital floor.</p>
<p class="p2">It could only be May Parker. “Oh my god, look at him!” she cries out, a hand over her mouth and tears already springing to the corners of her eyes. “He’s so precious! And so big without all of the tubes, Ben, look!”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony shakes his head, causing him to look down. In all of the commotion, Peter has detached from the bottle, attempting and failing to follow the new sounds that have disrupted his feeding.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh, I see him, hon,” Ben remarks, raising an eyebrow at Tony. “I also see his very angry father right up next to him.”</p>
<p class="p2">There’s a beat of silence. Tony looks at May. May looks at Peter, then finally seems to catch on to Tony looking at her with a glare he hopes reeks of violence and anger and all sorts of future tortures, like diaper changes and free babysitting and whatever else he can come up with to ruin her day like she’s just effectively ruined his.</p>
<p class="p2">May just crosses her arms. “What?”</p>
<p class="p2">“I have been trying to feed him for <em>five hours</em>,” Tony growls, trying very hard not to sound too mad lest he bother Peter more than he already is. “That was the first time he’s actually gotten anything down all. Morning. And you ruined it.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh,” May’s mouth turns into an apologetic frown. “Sorry, Tony, I couldn’t help it. I mean, just look at him, can I—”</p>
<p class="p2">“I’m sorry, you want to hold him? Now? After trying to starve him?”</p>
<p class="p2">“It wasn’t intentional, Stark, c’mon! I have to get my snuggles in now before he becomes a teenager and hates us.”</p>
<p class="p2">“He won’t hate <em>us</em>, he’ll hate you. You and your bad cooking vibes that he can sense from a mile away because you screech like a banshee.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Ben,” May tries, looking over at her husband, who has suddenly become very preoccupied with the wheel of his camera.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oooo. See, even Superhubby agrees. You’re about to be shunned by little Peter forever, can’t be helped.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Tony,” Ben sighs, not pleading but all in one word saying Tony’s taking the joke too far and if he doesn’t watch himself, May’s going to go on a tangent they’re both going to regret starting her on.</p>
<p class="p2">“Fine, fine. Take the little munchkin. See if you can get him to eat, since this is all your fault.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony transfers Peter to his aunt deftly without the hindrance of the tubing, tucking Peter a little more neatly into his baby blanket as he settles into May’s arms.</p>
<p class="p2">“Someone’s been practicing,” May remarks at the movement.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony shrugs. “Pepper keeps kicking me out. Says I spend too much time here.”</p>
<p class="p2">“And she’s right,” May says, delicately tracing a finger down Peter’s little cheek. “Daddy is way too overprotective. He should just ask us to come see you more often, isn’t that right, baby boy?”</p>
<p class="p2">“How do you deal with this every day?” Tony asks of Ben, awkwardly putting his hands in his pockets. Having nothing to do with his hands has always been a problem for Tony, and holding Peter has become as natural as drumming with a pen or holding one of his screwdrivers. To the point that he was warned he <em>can’t</em> hold Peter too much, because he’s sensitive to that, too.</p>
<p class="p2">“Well, you know...<em>some sweet talking girl comes along, singing a song</em>…” Ben trails off, letting a smile curl up his lip at the reference and at his wife holding Peter.</p>
<p class="p2">“Off-key,” May adds with a chuckle. “Very drunk at a karaoke bar.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony rolls his eyes. Maybe this is why he’d never tried to have a real, committed relationship. Way too much cheese.</p>
<p class="p2">“Okay, Fleetwood Mac, your turn.” Tony semi-forcefully guides Ben over, easily swooping Peter out of May’s arms with prejudice.</p>
<p class="p2">“You know that’s not the name of a person, right?” May asks. “Because if you don’t, I’m buying Peter a record player.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I know who Stevie Nicks is, May,” Tony scoffs. “I’m not an animal.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Besides, I hear everything is going digital these days,” Ben comments, taking his turn to smile down at his nephew. “I don’t think I’d ever trade out my film camera for one of the digital models, though. Seems like a lot of trouble.”</p>
<p class="p2">“More trouble than developing film in that shoebox you two call an apartment?” Tony questions.</p>
<p class="p2">Ben shakes his head, the most in a mood that the man really gets as far as Tony’s ever seen, mumbling, “Damn technicians never do it right.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I know, sweetie,” May consoles, patting Ben’s arm. Clearly a sore subject, which, in Tony’s opinion, is the most Ben Parker thing to get mad about, really.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony looks from May to Ben, noticing the other man’s face when it goes from lightly aweing Peter to something more...twisted.</p>
<p class="p2">“Are you really that mad at some film developer out there, because I could just buy you a whole store of your own, really...oh.”</p>
<p class="p2">Ben pulls Peter away from his body slightly, revealing a long trail of undigested muck that goes from Peter’s mouth all the way down Ben’s flannel shirt.</p>
<p class="p2">Peter seems to catch on to what’s happened as well, letting out a sniffling little whine that turns into a couple of short, puffy exhales.</p>
<p class="p2">“Well, they did say they wanted me to give Peter his first bath today…” Tony sighs, trying to take Peter while May simultaneously attempts to wipe up the mess, flitting between both Ben and Peter as if she’s unsure who needs it more. (It might be Ben, by the way he’s turned green.)</p>
<p class="p2">“Here, let me—do you need to—?” May asks.</p>
<p class="p2">“No, I’m fine, I think I’m—” Ben squeezes his eyes shut for a second, holding a hand over his mouth and nose. “I should change my shirt. I’m gonna—I have—in my car. I’ll be fine, just take care of Pete.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Ben, are you sure?” May tries again, but Ben’s waving his hand back, already out the door of the nursery.</p>
<p class="p2">“What the hell was that?” Tony asks, placing Peter in the warmer so he can strip off the ruined onesie. It’s not like Tony’s psyched about his future full of baby puke, but he’s not as purely repulsed as Ben seemed.</p>
<p class="p2">“He’s emetophobic,” May sighs, crossing her arms. “Poor thing. Just the thought of puke can get him started.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Yikes.” Tony scrunches his nose. He imagines that didn’t make for the most fun college experience, but he also knows most people weren’t him, who constantly drank to excess.</p>
<p class="p2">“Yeah. I think burping duties will be on the two of us from now on.” She pats Tony’s shoulder in solidarity. “Here, let me help with the bath. What do you need?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Uhhh…” Tony trails off. He got instructions about bathing Peter this morning, but after hours of trying to get him to eat a single bottle, he’s sort of lost some of his fatherly-related brain functions.</p>
<p class="p2">May rolls her eyes, digging around the couch and finding his notepad. He’s not the best at keeping track of things, so scribbling down Peter-related tips and tricks has been his savior. Definitely something he’s hoping his new AI will rectify. </p>
<p class="p2">He picks Peter up, his little body warm in his hands. His skin is soft without the onesie, and Tony wonders if Peter will one day have rough, coarse skin like he does, or if he will stay baby faced and smooth skinned forever—at what age he’ll stop letting him hold him against him like this. He frowns at the thought.</p>
<p class="p2">“Much better,” May hums, bringing out her reading glasses after a few seconds. “God, your handwriting sucks. Okay, we need new clothes, that’s obvious. Soap, washcloth, lotion…they gave you some from the bathing station, right?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Yeah. They have good enough stuff here,” Tony points to the plastic bag of required toiletries the nurse gave him. “But I bought some stuff they said I could use instead, if we want.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Wow, branching out a little, are we?” May teases lightly, picking up the bag of fancy baby soaps and luxury rags.</p>
<p class="p2">“Yes, Misses Parker. I am in fact capable of taking care of my own child,” he replies, just a little proud.</p>
<p class="p2">“Pepper picked these out, didn’t she?” May questions with a keenly raised brow.</p>
<p class="p2">“...That’s not the point.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Mmhm.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Aunt May’s a bully, Pete.” He presses a kiss to Peter’s cheek as he lifts him up.</p>
<p class="p2">“Only to those who deserve it,” May quips, pressing a kiss to Peter’s other cheek and following him to the back of the room where the bathing station is.</p>
<p class="p2">May fills up the oversized sink and tests the water for him, so he takes the opportunity to suggest, “I’ll hold him, you bathe him?”</p>
<p class="p2">May scoffs. “Tony, he’s not gonna <em>fall in</em>. They have this little chair he sits in made just for this situation.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You give people sponge baths all the time though, right? ‘Cause you’re a nurse? You’re probably so much better at it.”</p>
<p class="p2">May glares flatly. “You’re telling me you can drive a sports car at over a hundred miles an hour on the autobahn, but putting a little soap on the kid is what scares you? Really?”</p>
<p class="p2">“He’s fragile!” Tony says in his own defense.</p>
<p class="p2">“Just—come here already.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony sighs, setting Peter gently in the little chair, his body resting in waist-deep water. His eyes widen as he stares at Tony, confusion working through his tiny brows as he tries to adjust to the sensation.</p>
<p class="p2">“See Petey? It’s a bath. If you are anything like me, you’ll always be getting into messes, so you’re gonna want to get used to these.”</p>
<p class="p2">Peter blinks up at him, as if trying to comprehend what exactly is happening to him, and Tony takes the opportunity to slowly rub the rag over his skin and wash him off.</p>
<p class="p2">He seems to be doing a fine job with it until May starts to put soap in Peter’s hair.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony jerks quickly, pulling Peter’s face away from her grasp.</p>
<p class="p2">“Stop getting it so close to his face! You’re gonna blind him!”</p>
<p class="p2">May groans. “Oh my god, he’s <em>fine</em>. You’re so dramatic. My parents accidentally got a little soap in my eyes all the time and I turned out fine.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You’re only thirty and you have to wear reading glasses!”</p>
<p class="p2">May frowns. “I’m far-sighted, you prick.”</p>
<p class="p2">“How do you know it’s not connected!?”</p>
<p class="p2">“<em>Tony Stark</em>, if you don’t let me—”</p>
<p class="p2">“Everything okay in here?” Ben pokes his head in, looking much more clear-headed and dressed in a wrinkled t-shirt that was probably thrown somewhere in the backseat of his car.</p>
<p class="p2">“He’s being crazy again! I can’t take it.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Again?” Tony questions.</p>
<p class="p2">Ben just shakes his head at them. “This is supposed to be special. All Peter’s gonna remember about this moment is that you two can’t quit fussing long enough to get anything done.”</p>
<p class="p2">Ben pulls at the camera strap hanging around him again, pointing and clicking at Peter, naked in the plastic tub of water. The unexpected flash makes Peter turn his attention to him, kicking his feet in apparent contentment.</p>
<p class="p2">“See? He’s fine. Both of you need to just do the damn thing.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Ooo, Ben Parker bringing out the harsh language. We’d better snap to it, May.”</p>
<p class="p2">May snorts, putting her hand over Peter’s eyes as she rubs the bubbles onto his tiny tuft of brown hair that has grown in. Tony begins to lean Peter back and runs water over his little head when suddenly Peter tenses. It’s enough to throw him off, and water pours over his cheek.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh, shi—sorry, Pete—“</p>
<p class="p2">Suddenly a shrill, breathy, but nonetheless loud screech fills the air, quickly followed by another shaky cry, and Tony looks down in horror to see tears on Peter’s cheeks.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh, poor baby,” May coos sympathetically, tilting the seat back up and putting a dry cloth to Peter’s cheeks. “Did Daddy get your face wet? You’re okay.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony however, is not okay. Tony is speechless, air knocked out of him, because his baby is crying, loud and a little weak, but definitely <em>crying</em>. Crying like he should have been in the delivery room, crying like they said he needed to be, and it is both the most beautiful and horrible sound he has ever heard.</p>
<p class="p2">Because, right. His baby is crying, and as beautiful as it is to hear, it is also <em>heartbreaking</em>.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh Petey, I—it’s okay, I’m so <em>sorry, </em>just—”</p>
<p class="p2">And then there is a stuttering inhale, a sudden silence, and Tony stills along with his son.</p>
<p class="p2">Because Peter isn’t <em>breathing</em>. </p>
<p class="p2">His baby is sitting there in the tub, mouth open, no air coming in or out as his little body shakes.</p>
<p class="p2">Before anyone can tell him to stop, he runs and pushes the emergency button next to the sink, his mind racing over the single thought: <em>he’s not breathing, he’s not breathing, oh god, his baby’s not breathing.</em></p>
<p class="p2">He pulls Peter out of the water as May rushes to grab a towel to wrap around Peter’s shaking body, as if that will help Peter’s airflow.</p>
<p class="p2">Nurse Kathy runs in just as Peter does a deep inhale before repeating the process. Tony thinks there are tears on his face as he turns to Kathy in obvious desperation.</p>
<p class="p2">“<em>Help him!</em>”</p>
<p class="p2">Kathy looks at the baby and nods, taking Peter into her arms.</p>
<p class="p2">“Tony, look at me, darlin’. He’s okay.” She bounces Peter up and down, using the provided towel to dry him off as if it’s more important than the whole not breathing situation going on here.</p>
<p class="p2">“Okay?! He’s not <em>breathing</em>, Kathy!” Tony says hysterically, his hand parsing through his hair for the hundredth time since he started this so far short and incredibly stressful stint into fatherhood. </p>
<p class="p2">This can’t be happening. This can’t be <em>happening—</em></p>
<p class="p2">“Tony, look. Look at him. He is <em>okay</em>. This is just a little apnea. It happens when preemies cry sometimes. You just have to stay calm and calm them down, and it usually passes.”</p>
<p class="p2">Sure enough, Peter lets out another wail, this time with a deep inhale, and another loud cry quickly follows. Tony is vaguely aware of his legs turning to jelly beneath him.</p>
<p class="p2">“<em>Jesus…</em>” Tony breathes, grabbing for his kid as Kathy passes him back. He’s still crying, which definitely isn’t a comforting sound, but it’s better than whatever the hell <em>that </em>was.</p>
<p class="p2">“Apnea is just when he stops breathing momentarily, like sleep apnea happens when you’re asleep, yanno? This is just a thing preemies do sometimes when they cry. It usually isn’t a big deal and it stops pretty quickly.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Usually?” he questions. “As in, sometimes it doesn’t?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Tony…” May attempts to comfort him, but he can tell from the added affection of her closeness that she’s rattled too.</p>
<p class="p2">Kathy sighs, leading them back to the warmer.</p>
<p class="p2">“Sometimes, it is hard to get them to stop. If they go too long with limited oxygen, it can be dangerous, so you just have to get a feel for when enough is enough. It’s part of why us nurses aren’t big fans of the whole ‘cry it out’ method some parents like to use.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony continues to bounce Peter in his arms, the baby slowly starting to settle down.</p>
<p class="p2">“But how will I know? Is there, like, a sign? A time limit? <em>Anything</em>?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Sometimes their hands and feet will turn purple, so you—”</p>
<p class="p2">“Christ Kathy! You want me to wait until he’s purple?!” Tony yells, and Kathy gives him a scathing look as a warning to keep quiet. She softens after he backs down though, and leads him to sit in his usual chair.</p>
<p class="p2">“Mister Stark, I know all of this has been a lot for you,” Kathy admits. “But I’d like to think you’ve known me long enough now that you can trust me when I tell you that you’re gonna make it through this. You and your whole family.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony’s family. What an idea. All of these mismatched little pieces forming around him—around Peter. Supporting them just because they care.</p>
<p class="p2">“I won’t lie. A lot of preemies have their issues down the line. That doesn’t mean every single one is a crisis situation. You will learn the difference and you will be able to keep Peter safe when it matters.”</p>
<p class="p2">She looks at him with meaning, waiting until he nods at her to continue.</p>
<p class="p2">“And when you freak out again—because you will, I’m sure—and some other nurse has to deal with you, you will remember everything he went through in these first few weeks, and it’ll seem like child’s play in comparison. Okay?”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony isn’t sure if he believes that, but for now, in his sudden shaken state, he agrees.</p>
<p class="p2">“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” </p>
<p class="p2">It seems impossible, these times fading away into obscurity, the dangers of now feeling any less tenuous. But he knows time and hurting, and he knows losing his parents gets a little more tolerable every year. Mary’s loss is fresh and this responsibility for Peter is new, but Peter will grow and things will change and Tony will adapt to it, just like he adapted to holding his son that first time and hasn’t stopped holding him since.</p>
<p class="p2">“Now, this little man is probably about as bathed as he’s gonna be, and he’s probably ready to go back to sleep. Anyone want to do the honors?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Ben?” Tony finds himself asking. Because in all of this, the other man has been far more capable of keeping a cool head, and Tony still feels a little shaky, and as much as he wants to keep holding Peter close, he thinks he needs a moment to breathe.</p>
<p class="p2">Plus, despite his aversion to Peter’s throw-up, Ben’s clearly as obsessed as the rest of them are with Peter, and he deserves a moment with him, too.</p>
<p class="p2">“Me? I mean—yeah, of course, but—“</p>
<p class="p2">Tony waves off the concern. “I’ve been too preoccupied with getting him to eat to get anything for myself, and I’m sure I’ll have to fight that gauntlet again before the day is over. We’ll grab snacks, you lead the squirt into dreamland.”</p>
<p class="p2">Ben smiles at him, genuine and saccharine but honest in his emotions as always, and Tony returns it as best he can.</p>
<p class="p2">May bumps Tony’s arm, breaking the moment.</p>
<p class="p2">“We should probably get him dressed first.”</p>
<p class="p2">Peter stays subdued through the process, only giving a few light kicks at Tony’s hands as he’s dressed in a fresh onesie and wrapped up in a blanket before being gently placed in Ben’s arms.</p>
<p class="p2">“Tony, are you <em>sure</em>?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Yes, Ben. You’re fine. It’s bonding time. You’ll do great,” Tony replies, patting Ben’s shoulder firmly.</p>
<p class="p2">A flash behind them makes Tony turn around. May is holding Ben’s camera.</p>
<p class="p2">“So cute!” She insists to herself. “Oh, Ben, I’m gonna get that one framed for the house.”</p>
<p class="p2">“If it was even in focus,” Tony quips under his breath to Ben, giving Peter’s head a quick peck to cover the joke.</p>
<p class="p2">Ben laughs lightly, but still shoos them both off. “Go, go. Your bickering will wake the baby.”</p>
<p class="p2">They begin to walk out, but Tony turns around one more time at the doorway to watch the way Ben rocks and coos at Peter in his arms.</p>
<p class="p2">It is a pretty adorable picture.</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <b>October 15, 2001</b>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">He’s late. </p>
<p class="p2">Tony can’t believe it, but for the first time in his son’s little life, Tony is over four hours late to being at the hospital.</p>
<p class="p2">Well, okay, he <em>can</em> believe it, considering the circumstances.</p>
<p class="p2">He’s spent the last few harried weeks juggling multiple projects at the same time: finishing his new AI (officially christened JARVIS as of last night), preparing the mansion for Peter’s arrival completely over the phone with the movers and decorators, and still seeing to Peter’s everyday care and developments while sticking to Pepper’s insisted schedule of forcing him to leave the hospital and maintain more than three hours of sleep a day. As such he is always at the hospital at promptly 7am, which, according to Pepper, is like a fever dream to see him up so early.</p>
<p class="p2">So, finally—as Pepper probably predicted would happen—Tony crashed really, really hard into sleep last night, and then overslept this morning. It left him well-rested, which is novel, but also a little panicked.</p>
<p class="p2">He ends up speeding through his morning routine, skipping his usual twenty minutes of hair primping and facial hair maintenance and instead hopping around the room with his pants half on looking for his phone only to realize it’s in the pockets of a different pair from the day before.</p>
<p class="p2">He knows that in reality, there’s nothing wrong with being a few hours later than usual. Nothing life-changing will have happened while he’s been gone. They’re too early for Tony to start worrying about missing milestones or anything, and he’s going to strap the kid to his chest in one of those god-awful looking papoose things if he has to and take Peter to work every day to prevent that, too.</p>
<p class="p2">It’s actually kind of comforting to know that he slept in and the world didn’t fall apart. Considering the last few harried months, he’s happy for the change of pace.</p>
<p class="p2">It also helps that Pepper, ever the eternal early riser, decided to take his place next to Peter’s side, where he finally finds her as he enters the NICU.</p>
<p class="p2">“Throw me a twenty,” Tony instantly commands, rubbing his head and frowning at the pulse throbbing behind his eyelids. All of the extra sleep in the world can’t make up for his long-standing caffeine addiction. “You’re paying for the coffee.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh?” she replies, obviously in the middle of an email and paying only partial attention to his entrance.</p>
<p class="p2">He replies in kind by texting Happy and asking him to stop by the cafeteria on his way up and grab him a black coffee with as many extra shots as they’ll give him. (He also orders a mocha latte for Pepper, but he doesn’t tell her that because she doesn’t deserve it after this morning.)</p>
<p class="p2">Tony takes off his jacket, shedding with it the developing cold of New York transitioning from fall into early winter. </p>
<p class="p2">“Were you really just gonna let me sleep all day like that? Was it part of your evil plan? Keeping the kid all to yourself so you can brainwash him into being a mini-Pepper and take over the world together?”</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper snorts. </p>
<p class="p2">“It was bound to happen eventually, Tony. You have a lot going on right now, you’re only resting because I force you to—” Pepper finally looks up from her email and eyes his haggard form. “And clearly you need the rest.”</p>
<p class="p2">He frowns at her, wagging a mostly playful, warning finger. “Watch it, Potts. I’m here for my kid, not your catty remarks on my appearance. Which, I assure you, is flawless as always.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Of course, Mister Stark,” she replies in that flat, humoring tone. Tony switches fingers, flipping her the bird behind his back as he leans over to greet his son for the morning.</p>
<p class="p2">Peter is in a regular crib now, the warmer no longer necessary to keep him cozy and healthy. He breathes room air about as well as other babies his age, though the apnea has still been a problem on and off, as the nurses and doctors predicted. He’s clearly getting healthier, though, and that is why Tony has been banned from asking if Peter’s ready to leave yet by every shift nurse and doctor in the pediatric ward.</p>
<p class="p2">“Hey there, Petey! Look who finally decided to show up!” Tony sing-songs, happy to see the baby already awake. </p>
<p class="p2">He’s aware that babies sleep a lot, but it’s nice to really see Peter wiggling around and reacting to the world, to see the little person that he’s already turning into. He likes certain outfits more than others based on how warm they keep him. He likes when Tony cradles him and holds him, but for some reason adores when it’s May that’s burping him. He sticks his fingers into Pepper’s long ponytail but never pulls. And god, the power Ben Parker has suddenly acquired to make the kid stop crying almost instantly. It rivals the comfort the kid gets from Tony.</p>
<p class="p2">Peter kicks his feet a few times in greeting, huffing a little now that he seems to recognize who Tony is, and then—</p>
<p class="p2">And then Peter’s little mouth stretches into the widest, gummiest, brightest smile Tony has ever seen on a baby’s face in his entire life. (It’s really the only time he’s ever been interested in looking at a baby in his life, but the point still stands.)</p>
<p class="p2">Tony stares speechlessly down at his smiling baby and breaks into a mirroring grin.</p>
<p class="p2">“<em>Pepper!</em>” Tony says in barely contained excitement, swooping Peter up and kissing his cheek in an effort to keep the expression on his face. “Pepper, look at him! Look!”</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper looks up from her laptop, her face melting when she sees the matching smiles on both Tony and Peter.</p>
<p class="p2">She coos out an, “Awww,” putting aside her laptop to pull out the disposable camera that Tony insists she carry at all times just in case things like this happen. </p>
<p class="p2">“I’m not as good a shot as Ben is, but it’ll be hard to mess up that smile.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony looks down at Peter as he runs his thumb across the curve of his baby’s cheek, Peter looking up at him with those still baby blue eyes that now hold a sparkle of happiness that Tony promises he will do everything to keep there for the rest of his life.</p>
<p class="p2">“Three, two, one…” Pepper counts down. The automatic flash goes off, blinding Tony temporarily so that he doesn’t notice Ben and May Parker until they’re already next to him.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh boy, do I see a camera?” Ben comments.</p>
<p class="p2">Tony turns to show off his still smiling son.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh my goodness—Ben, <em>Ben </em>get a picture <em>right now!”</em> May screeches, giving her husband a light shove of insistence. Peter huffs at the sound, the smile dropping into an expressive ‘o’ of his lips.</p>
<p class="p2">“I’ve told you, May, he doesn’t like your screeching,” Tony says smugly, and May pouts as she leans into his space.</p>
<p class="p2">“No, not my darling nephew! He loves all my noises! Don’t you baby?” May urges, reaching out for Peter as Tony sighs and relents the baby into her arms.</p>
<p class="p2">“I’ll get him to smile at me. You’ll see!” she says confidently, pulling a funny face down at Peter. He doesn’t smile, simply watches, at the very least entertained by her behavior.</p>
<p class="p2">“Looks like your wife is on a mission, Ben.” Happy rounds the corner, carrying a drink holder with Tony’s unholy concoction of caffeine and sugar in his hands along with two other disposable cups for himself and Pepper and extras that must be for Ben and May. </p>
<p class="p2">Happy grabs Tony’s large coffee and passes it over. Not as good as holding Peter, but still very, very appreciated to have in his hands at the moment. </p>
<p class="p2">“I got the most caffeinated drink on the menu for you, Boss. Large with extra sugar.”</p>
<p class="p2">The look Happy shares with Pepper as he walks over to her seems to indicate that he’s worried about why Tony needs this in particular, but Pepper waves him off.</p>
<p class="p2">“I could kiss you, Hogan.” Tony sighs in relief, taking three huge gulps before savoring the taste. Hazelnut. Nice.</p>
<p class="p2">“Please don’t,” the other man says with a grimace as he sits on the couch next to Pepper, handing out the rest of the drinks. “I know where your mouth has been.”</p>
<p class="p2">May scoffs dramatically, gently pushing a hand over one of Peter’s ears. The look at Happy is scolding, but Ben is snickering next to her, and she’s definitely got a smile tugging at her lips.</p>
<p class="p2">“Sorry,” Happy sighs as he sinks into the cushion and presses a hand through his hair. “It’s been a busy week.”</p>
<p class="p2">“You okay, man?” Ben asks as Happy thumps his head against the wall, and Tony almost feels guilty seeing the bags under his eyes.</p>
<p class="p2">Happy huffs, glaring at Tony. “<em>Someone</em> wanted a full security overhaul on the other side of the country to prepare the mansion and the Stark Industries offices for when we go back to Malibu soon.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Wait, <em>Malibu</em>?!” May says in shock, gripping onto Peter a little protectively. Tony glares at Happy before he turns to her with a truly apologetic look.</p>
<p class="p2">“I was <em>going</em> to tell you...” Tony sighs. “It just never seemed to be the right time.”</p>
<p class="p2">“What about the apartment, the one right down the street? I thought you already paid the deposit, and we spent so much time painting a-and—” May continues in a frantic, confused tone, and, yeah, Tony feels like shit for putting this off. He just knew how hard it would be, and this kind of reaction was what he was hoping to avoid.</p>
<p class="p2">“It just…it doesn’t <em>feel</em> right, May. I don’t know how else to explain it.” He runs a hand through his beard, trying to find the words. With Pepper and Happy, he didn’t have to explain. They worked for him, they were used to his whims...or maybe they understood without him needing to really discuss it. They’d trusted him to make that choice for himself and went along with it.</p>
<p class="p2">“I just…without Mary here, it’s…” He opens his arms in a gesture, then lets it drop.</p>
<p class="p2">Cold. Empty. Unfinished.</p>
<p class="p2">“We get it,” Ben says, surprisingly.</p>
<p class="p2">“Ben!”</p>
<p class="p2">“May,” Ben says back, consoling as May turns around with Peter still in her arms, obviously trying to gather her thoughts. “I love Peter too. Of course I want them to stick around. But, honey, this isn’t their home. It makes sense the man wants to go back to California when Peter’s well enough. We’ve been stalling on packing up Mary’s apartment for the same reason. It’s hard to be there, to remember everything that happened…”</p>
<p class="p2">God bless Ben Parker. Empathetic and understanding to a fault. And particularly good at handling May, who is always bursting with whatever she’s feeling and lets everyone know it.</p>
<p class="p2">“If you want to come too, you can. I’ll set you up nearby. I’m not trying to—to take him from you or anything. I just…” Tony trails off, thinking of all the plans he has of having Peter grow up by the ocean, of having his baby down in the lab and meeting his bots. Of his new AI keeping track of each beloved memory.</p>
<p class="p2">He wants to go <em>home</em>.</p>
<p class="p2">“No, we can’t…we can’t leave, that’d be—no.” May looks down at the bundle of joy in her arms, sighing as she presses a kiss to his chubby little fist. “I understand what you’re saying, okay? I do. I just hate the idea of him growing up without us.”</p>
<p class="p2">“He won’t,” Tony assures.</p>
<p class="p2">May looks back at him skeptically.</p>
<p class="p2">“No, really. You can visit literally anytime. I have plenty of guest rooms, and there’s a branch of SI in New York, which means I can visit all the time to make Obie happy and—hell, I’ll buy a plane and leave it at an airport with a pilot on call 24/7. You can come visit whenever you want. Maybe it’ll finally force Happy to get that pilot’s license he’s been droning on about all these years.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Hey!” Happy protests. Ben laughs as the other man pulls himself to sit straighter. “I’m gonna get it! It takes like 35 flight hours of practice, and I’m too busy carting your ass around to get my time in.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Hey, I’ll be your first passenger, Happy,” Ben says with a grin, patting the man’s arm comfortingly. “I’ve always wanted to fly in one of those little personal planes.”</p>
<p class="p2">“See, I’m thinking bigger than that. You ever seen a Cessna up close?” Happy says with a smile, an actual smile, and Tony looks around the room incredulously.</p>
<p class="p2">“I’m sorry, who are you and where is Happy? Did you actually make a friend? Are we in the Twilight Zone?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Compared to your sour ass, it isn’t hard to find better company,” Happy says with a grunt.</p>
<p class="p2">Ben smiles as he looks over to May, who is still looking like she’s on the verge of tears. He pulls her over, wrapping a comforting arm around her waist.</p>
<p class="p2">“We can’t force them to stay, honey. They’ve gotta go home, and we’ve gotta let them,” Ben says softly.</p>
<p class="p2">May takes a deep breath before looking at Tony with her usual fire back in her eyes.</p>
<p class="p2">“I want phone calls,” May says, laying down the law. “Once a week, <em>at minimum</em>. I want pictures and holiday visits and a visit up here at least twice—no, four times a year!”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony nods. “I promise.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I know I don’t have any right to him…” she says, some of the fight draining from her, her voice wavering as she looks at the baby in her arms. “And I know you didn’t ask for us when you agreed to taking this on with Mary, but...he’s my nephew in every way that matters. And we care about you guys too, so please just…make sure he knows we love him even when we’re not there. Okay?”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony swallows, so grateful for the people in this room, for these people that have become family to him and his child.</p>
<p class="p2">“He will. You’ll be around, May, and so will everyone else. I mean, blood or not, we’re family after all of this, right?”</p>
<p class="p2">May smiles. </p>
<p class="p2">“Right.”</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <b>October 23, 2001</b>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <em>“Mister Stark and passengers, we have arrived at Los Angeles International Airport. Local time is 4:30 PM and it’s a sunny seventy degrees. For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belts fastened until I turn off the Fasten Seat Belt sign. This will indicate that we have parked at the gate and that it is safe for you to move about the cabin.”</em>
</p>
<p class="p2">“Thank god,” Tony sighs at the pilot’s announcement, bouncing a crying Peter in his arms for the hundredth time.</p>
<p class="p2">Peter’s first flight has been nothing but stress since the moment his ears popped. He’s been holding onto Peter because the kid hasn’t quit with the theatrics and he’s scared the minor apnea he’s had will get worse if he keeps going. It would have been so much better if Peter slept through it, because that and a need for a feeding that he wouldn’t stop crying long enough to eat is probably also part of the problem.</p>
<p class="p2">They’re so close to home. An hour, max. Less if he tells Happy to step on it and ignore speed limits.</p>
<p class="p2">“Take him for a second?” Tony asks of Pepper.</p>
<p class="p2">“Poor baby,” she hums, more understanding than Happy, who put in earplugs and quickly went to sleep as soon as they got into the air.</p>
<p class="p2">The seat belt sign flickers off along with a goodbye message from the pilot, leaving them to stand and start gathering their bags. Happy leaves to get the bigger suitcases, but Tony has a bag of Peter’s immediate needs that he insists isn’t a diaper bag, <em>because that’s lame, Pepper</em>, that he needs to get situated and into the car along with the kid.</p>
<p class="p2">Oh, and then there’s the car seat that he’s literally only used the once to get Peter from the hospital to the airport. As if it didn’t take him, an MIT graduate and engineer, fifteen minutes to figure out.</p>
<p class="p2">It’s so much. Having a kid is so much different stuff tugging on his attention all the time, and it’s very different now that they’re re-entering the real world past the walls of New York Presbyterian. </p>
<p class="p2">“Hey.” Tony turns from where he’s securely smushed Peter’s bunny between a pile of unused diapers and some hastily folded clothes to Pepper.</p>
<p class="p2">Peter is still whimpering in her arms, happier now that the plane has stopped moving but still cranky as all get out. She exchanges the bag in Tony’s arms for the baby in hers, pressing a finger over Peter’s dainty curls as he settles against Tony’s chest with a whine.</p>
<p class="p2">She looks up to Tony. “You’ve got this, Tony.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Well, I guess I’m glad someone believes in me,” he chuckles nervously.</p>
<p class="p2">“You know that I do,” she says seriously, squeezing his hand where it rests over Peter. “We all do, or we wouldn’t be here.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Thanks, Pep.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Boss.” Happy shoulders back into the plane, preparing to take the last round of suitcases. “We have a bit of a situation outside.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony sighs. “Of course.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Paparazzi?” Pepper predicts, sighing along with him as Happy nods.</p>
<p class="p2">“I never asked,” Tony says, gearing himself up to exit the plane. “What did you tell the press, exactly?”</p>
<p class="p2">“His name. That he was healthy, once he was out of the woods. That the family was asking for privacy at this time to grieve the loss of his mother.”</p>
<p class="p2">They both take a beat to give Mary’s loss the moment of silence that it deserves.</p>
<p class="p2">“Well, you tried.” He looks out of the window. It’s not a few lingering paps, but a sea of them, bordered off by a set of stanchions that separate them from being too near the stairs of the plane.</p>
<p class="p2">“Kinda figured it was a lost cause after that whole story about you getting coffee implied you were officially a deadbeat dad.”</p>
<p class="p2">He does a double take. “I didn’t realize it spun that far out of proportion. Jesus.”</p>
<p class="p2">She shrugs. “Come on. We’ll make it quick. Just remember: no comment. That’s all you have to say until we reach the car.”</p>
<p class="p2">Happy goes last, hovering over the rest of them as they descend the stairs like a paladin of old.</p>
<p class="p2">“Mister Stark, Mister Stark, how is it being a father?” one reporter yells.</p>
<p class="p2">“Tony, is it true you genetically altered the baby to have Captain America’s blood using your father’s research?” </p>
<p class="p2">That one causes Tony to blink twice, but also because a speedlight goes off directly in his eye.</p>
<p class="p2">“Mister Stark, how is Stark Industries prepared to take on an heir?”</p>
<p class="p2">“He’s two months old!” Tony replies to that one, then instantly gets shoved away by Pepper, who distinctly hates when he goes off script.</p>
<p class="p2">Mostly because that starts the reporters to go even harder, to be the one who gets him to talk again.</p>
<p class="p2">“Mister Stark—”</p>
<p class="p2">“Tony—”</p>
<p class="p2">“Mister—”</p>
<p class="p2">Peter squirms in his arms, another breathy cry tearing from his tiny lungs. It quickly turns into apnea, his loud cut off gasp immediately gaining Tony’s attention.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh, no. Nonono, baby, not right now, c’mon,” Tony attempts to no avail. His pleads won’t stop Peter from crying this time just like it hasn’t the last few times the apnea acted up.</p>
<p class="p2">“Tony—” Pepper attempts to shield them further, trying to figure out why he’s stopped walking. “Oh, Peter, oh no, sweetheart—”</p>
<p class="p2">“It’s okay, it’ll be okay, we just gotta—calm down, Pete, be calm. It’s okay, everybody’s calm, there’s nothing to worry about, shhh.”</p>
<p class="p2">Peter’s next gasp is followed by shrill wailing. Not ideal, but better than the breathless shaking.</p>
<p class="p2">He and Pepper finally breathe out together in relief.</p>
<p class="p2">“We should—” Tony starts, then looks up. The noise of the press faded out for a moment with the concern for Peter taking over, but also because...they stopped yelling. The pictures will probably still end up in the papers tomorrow, but the noise…</p>
<p class="p2">A couple of reporters audibly coo. A few others seem to sympathize, probably parents themselves.</p>
<p class="p2">“Thanks,” is all Tony says to the group, a little awed. Even if it’s just a little human decency, even if it’s just for this one time in Peter’s life dealing with media exposure, he’ll take it.</p>
<p class="p2">He takes advantage of their silence to slide into the back of the limo, allowing Pepper to help him with the car seat buckles as they settle him in.</p>
<p class="p2">Happy drives off as soon as they give the go-ahead, leaving behind the awful airplane experience as well as the crowd of reporters behind them.</p>
<p class="p2">“Well. That was…” Pepper starts, but Tony cuts her off.</p>
<p class="p2">“I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Floor it, Hogan, I want to see the ocean.”</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">It takes a little over forty minutes in LA traffic, but soon the wide expanse of blue reflects in the window, and they take the winding drive into the Malibu mansion.</p>
<p class="p2">It really does feel like home, coming into the long driveway and up to the steps. Around them a few errant seagulls chirp, and the smell of the ocean is recognizable in the wind.</p>
<p class="p2">“Look at that, Pete! We’re home.”</p>
<p class="p2">Peter seems to have calmed down a little over the car ride, his eyes roaming around the bright blue sky above him. He supposes the view is a lot nicer than the hospital ceiling.</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Tony says, handing the baby carrier to Pepper before she can protest. “Getting Peter’s room ready isn’t the only thing I’ve been up to.”</p>
<p class="p2">He claps as they enter through the front door, causing the lights to come up without pressing either of the switches.</p>
<p class="p2">“Wakey, wakey, J, Daddy’s home!”</p>
<p class="p2">The glass on the wall next to the entryway lights up with blue tinted text and figures, signaling the start-up of his new AI.</p>
<p class="p2">“Power at 100%, all systems functioning. Voice Recognition registered. Welcome home, sir.”</p>
<p class="p2">Pepper practically jumps behind him, clutching at the carrier a little tighter.</p>
<p class="p2">“Tony, what on earth—”</p>
<p class="p2">“Vocal Recognition registered. Activating House Guest Protocols. Miss Virginia Potts, Executive Assistant of Tony Stark, All Access granted.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Now that’s freaky…” Happy adds, spinning around the room in disbelief and starting JARVIS again.</p>
<p class="p2">“Vocal Recognition registered. Mister Happy Hogan, Personal Security for Tony Stark, Security Executive Access granted.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Wait, why does she get full access and I don’t?!”</p>
<p class="p2">“Legal stuff,” Tony waves his hand at Happy. “Privileged corporate information, blah blah blah.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Oh, that’s such bull—”</p>
<p class="p2">“Say, J, you’re forgetting someone, don’t you think?”</p>
<p class="p2">He takes Peter from the carrier, holding him so that one of JARVIS’ many optical sensors can see the baby.</p>
<p class="p2">Peter gives a tired whimper, exhausted from his day of travel and more than ready for a nap and a feeding.</p>
<p class="p2">“Voice Recognition failed. Retina Scan failed. Shall I call the police, sir?”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony laughs. “No, Jarvis, he’s not an <em>intruder</em>. He’s my son. He’s brand spanking new to the world, just like you.”</p>
<p class="p2">“I see, sir. Shall I make a new profile for this guest?”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony shakes his head, turning to Pepper and Happy. “We’re still working the kinks out. I’m trying to make him a little less formal, but this was a bit of a rush job. Takes time to train an AI.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony sighs. “He’s not a guest, J. This is his home too. Same settings as me, okay? We’ll tweak them to be more baby-appropriate down the road. This is Peter Stark. Get it? Same last name. My kid.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Very well. Does this profile require a nickname?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Hmm…” Tony looks down at Peter in his arms. </p>
<p class="p2">The robotic voice is almost uncannily like the real Jarvis, and for a nostalgic moment, Tony wishes his childhood butler were really here to see the man he’s become, to see the child he’s made and intends to raise with all of the love and joy that Edwin Jarvis brought into his life when he didn’t have as much as he should have from his own parents.</p>
<p class="p2">“I seem to remember your predecessor calling the child of his master ‘young sir’, correct?”</p>
<p class="p2">“Yes sir, this was common speech used by most British butlers trained in the 1970s.”</p>
<p class="p2">“And they say Google’s going to be the next big thing,” Tony shakes his head. “Perfect, J. That’s perfect. Set it up with retinal scans for now. We’ll get vocal recognition when he can, you know. Speak.”</p>
<p class="p2">“Of course, sir. Welcome home, young sir.”</p>
<p class="p2">Tony smiles wide, looking down at the disgruntled baby in his arms.</p>
<p class="p2">“Welcome home, Peter.”</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! All comments, kudos, etc. are appreciated! As stated at the top...we still have more planned, somehow.</p>
<p>Thanks for joining us for this long, and we hope to see you again. A cheers of sparkling juice or champagne to you all for sticking around and giving us such immensely kind comments.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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